


Cashin' In

by Bella_Monoxide



Series: The Adventures of Dean Winchester, Scam Artist Extraordinaire [1]
Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Credit Card Scams, M/M, facing consequences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bella_Monoxide/pseuds/Bella_Monoxide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally, his credit card scams fell through, and Dean Winchester sees himself faced with consequences to his actions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cashin' In

**Author's Note:**

> My friend ramblesandshambles challenged our chatgroup the other day. Here is the what her prompt said:  
> "My card just got declined and the waiter asked if I had any other forms of payment, so I just sighed and started undoing his belt."
> 
> My first thought was that of course this would happen to Dean Winchester, because of  
> 1) the credit card scams the hunters are pulling on a daily basis  
> 2) Dean being way too cocky for his own good.
> 
> Shoutout goes to pharmtechgirl71 for beta-ing this one, and demented_queen for answering some weird questions!

Sam and Dean Winchester, hunters of the supernatural, had been in the car with each other all day and had been in desperate need of some time apart when they finally reached a small town in Georgia.

They were following a lead on a coven of vampires a few towns over, but had been so fed up with each other that they had stopped ahead of time, gotten into a cheap motel as usual and subsequently the hell away from each other as soon as possible.

Ironically, when Sam went to eat later on that evening, he happened to pick the same diner Dean had already finished his meal at, and so Sam was able to witness an interesting scene unfold.

* * *

Dean, always the hungrier one, headed out for a bite to eat first thing. The diner he ended up at was as good as could be expected, and he enjoyed the Mexican food they served in blissful silence. At least, that was what it felt like to him, since he did not have Sam sitting across from him for once in the otherwise well patronised diner.

The waitress was very pretty, and Dean, being the womanizer he was, had put in his usual share of flirting, to which Rosita only responded in a very hesitant way he knew from serving personnel around the States. It indicated that she was not interested, but would not be rude towards him and tell him to his face, in order to keep her job.

When he paid, he saw her hastily hidden smirk when she read the name on this particular credit card. He smiled to himself as she went to put his check through, assuming that she most likely thought he did not even remotely sounded like a Mr Anton Yakimov.

She was right, of course. But being a hunter of things that nobody believed in, the pay was just lousy – which was a polite description for nonexistent. So, consequently, they had to scramble by like that.

Dean amused himself for a few minutes, thinking about why they could not be more like those guys from movies like John Carpenter's Vampires. He had particularly liked Derek Bliss in the second one, Los Muertos, maybe because of that one line about how he would rather be surfing instead of hunting vampires.

When he looked into the direction Rosita had went the next time with a big sigh, his thoughts still not quite in the present again, it was not the cute waitress he laid eyes upon, but the rather rough looking owner of the diner.

The broad shouldered man looked as if he was a good-natured kind of guy on any other day, but right now his handsome features where scrunched up to form a rather pissed off expression.

When he saw that he had Dean's attention, he made sure to keep it while he took a pair of scissors and cut the credit card into pieces. Dean gulped, but any thoughts of escape died away before he could even think them through as the eyes of the owner bored into his with a piercing stare that told him very clearly trouble was ahead.

An almost invisible jerk of his chin indicated for Dean to leave his table and follow him into the realms of the diner that were for staff only. On his way there, Dean cast a last look at a shaggy looking man who sat with a slightly older guy who had a rather military look on him.

The latter appeared to do all the talking between the two, whereas the quiet one had sat in brooding silence for the most part during their dinner. Dean had looked their way quite a few times, wondering about them.

Aside from the obvious, the two guys rang a distant bell in his brain, but he had not been able to place the feeling so far, and it nagged at him. Right before he reached the door through which the owner of the diner had vanished, Dean cast a last look at the younger, shaggy haired guy.

But it appeared that he had not been as smooth as he thought he had, since his stare was met by a gaze out of stormy blue eyes. A gleeful smirk played around the guy's mouth, and, walking through the door that said clearly "staff only", Dean felt like the guy knew exactly what had happened.

All thoughts of shaggy guy and his companion vamoosed from his conscious mind though as soon as he saw himself faced with the owner, who's name tag simply said "Martinez".

Dean started talking immediately, addressing the other with 'Mister Martinez', but was stopped by a hand held up in an unmistakable gesture. "Just Martinez," the owner stated. After a nod from Dean, he continued. "Now that your little credit card scam fell through, why don't you tell me your real name for starters?"

When Dean did not offer any name, Martinez nodded whistfully. "I thought so." Which left Dean to stare at him in surprise.

Martinez smirked unpleasantly. "I know guys like you," he added, and a threatening undertone was clearly audible.

But Dean, who did not get scared easily, talked back now, in an attempt to squelch any ideas Martinez might have of his true nature as a hunter – all the while the owner of the diner leaned casually against the wall with his bulging arms crossed over his broad chest, as he kept staring at Dean, an almost amused expression on his face.

"You think you can talk your way out of anything, huh?" He spoke quietly, but still audibly right into one of Dean's sentences, startling him into a – no doubt only temporary – silence.

"Hm, I thought so," Martinez added. "You see, it appears that we are having quite a bit of, shall we say, unusual troubles in Georgia, so your kind passes through a lot. We owners are more careful when it comes to credit cards around here. Besides," he added almost as an afterthought, "I even know some of you personally."

Dean, at the end of his patience, demanded to know what Martinez planned to do about his bill now.

"Oh," Martinez rumbled, "you're a handsome looking fellow. I think you'll be able to come up with some other form of payment that will satisfy my, shall we say, needs."

With his mouth hanging open at such a blatant request, Dean gaped at the Hispanic for a full minute, before he managed to retort in an at least somewhat leveled voice.

"So I'm not the first one you're trying to take advantage of, then?" He paused for effect before he continued with a question. "Doesn't that make you, I dunno – cheap?" And he looked Martinez straight in the eye.

But Dean should have known from Martinez general demanor that it was no use to try and weasel his way out of the situation.

"You may try to intimidate me like that all you want," Marinez answered, his voice bordering on bored, "but you're not getting out of this one."

And that was that.

* * *

Minutes later, both Dean and Martinez had walked up into the apartment over the diner. Dean was standing in front of a comfy looking armchair in the living room, waiting while Martinez pulled the drapes and switched on a reading lamp, casting the room in a warm light.

"Hm," Dean quipped, "quite the romantic, aren't you?"

Martinez shook his head with a sigh. "Man, are you always like that?" He rolled his eyes. "I can't even imagine what it must be like to be your partner."

It was not lost on Dean that Martinez clearly did not refer to possible relationships he might have had. After all, when a hunter entered an appartment that had both salt and iron located within reach of the door, he could draw the conclusion that the owner of said apartment had at least some knowledge of the supernatural world – and more precisely, how to fend it off.

When Martinez stood between the armchair and Dean, the hunter asked "Tell me," and Martinez sighed yet again, sounding even less patient then before, but Dean continued undeterred. "Did you ask another guy like me who could not pay to get all those sigils up over your door and the windows?"

Finally, Martinez chuckled good-naturedly, his irritation with Dean's behaviour temporarily forgotten. "Yeah, good guess. But no," he continued more thoughtfully, "those were done by local hunters, as a favour to me."

Martinez gave him a leveled look, and Dean, for once in his life, picked up on the clue and did not ask any further questions. "So." He sighed. "What kind of payment..?"

Marinez cut right in. "I would say it's rather obvious, wouldn't you agree?" He tapped his foot in impatience, and the hunter sighed in defeat as he shrugged his leather jacket off, draped it over the nearby sofa, and knelt down in front of Martinez, his hands already on his belt, opening it with deft fingers.

"Name's Dean," he offered as he opened the buttons on Martinez' jeans, who promptly replied "Caesar," as his hands found their way into Dean's short hair, where they began to stroke it in a quite affectionate manner.

The hunter busied himself with pulling down both jeans and underwear, and was rewarded with a beautifully erect cock, a bead of pre-cum already glistening at its tip.

Caesar moaned when Dean's tongue darted forward to lick that bead off, and he sighed when the hunter looked up at him out of his beautiful green eyes.

"That's quite a sizeable cock you got there, Caesar," he purred, his hand already stroking the shaft in front of his face, "are you sure it will fit..?"

"Between those plump lips of yours?" Martinez replied. "Sure, considering how big of a mouth you got on your person." And he grinned from ear to ear when Dean closed his eyes in mortification as he muttered under his breath. "I walked right into that one, didn't I..?"

Nodding, Martinez demanded for Dean to open said mouth, and soon after he did just that, the heat in the livingroom began to rise, as Dean expertly worked on Martinez cock, causing him to moan loudly as he held on to Dean's head for dear life.

After a few minutes, Dean had Martinez all figured out, and he concentrated his efforts on the head of his cock while his hands worked on both the hard length and tightening balls. At that point, Caesar had already caved and given up on his dominant position in order to sit down in the armchair, so he could fully appreciate Dean's abilities.

"Damn," he moaned with his eyes locked on Dean's, "you are real good."

Dean watched how Martinez' eyes rolled into the back of his head as the hunter moaned around the bulging head in his mouth, making it extra tight, and Caesar cried out as his orgasm crashed over him.

He leaned back, panting, and Dean let Martinez' cock plop out of his mouth before he got up in search of the bathroom, grabbing his jacket on the way.

"First door to the left from the entrance," he heard Martinez call after him, and Dean raised a hand in acknowledge before he went into the room to spit out the mouthful of cum and clean up a bit.

After re-adjusting his own erection, he walked out of the bathroom to find himself faced Martinez in the small hallway. The owner of the diner held a receipt in his hand, and Dean watched as he tore it into several pieces, then handed them over to Dean.

"Consider your bill well and truely paid." He told him.

Nodding, Dean pocketed the shreds and went to open the door, but got held up by a hand on his arm. Jerking his chin towards the front of the hunter's jeans, Caesar offered "Need a hand with that?"

But Dean shook his head. Chuckling, Martinez opened the door for him, rumbling into Dean's ear as he walked out "Maybe next time, then." When Dean looked disbelievingly at him over his shoulder, Martinez added "I'd love for you to stop by again," with heat in his dark-brown eyes.

The smart-ass retort died on Dean's lips when Martinez grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into a heated kiss, his trimmed black beard scratching over Dean's clean shaven chin. Too surprised by Caesar's unforeseen action, Dean found himself holding on to Caeasar's sizeable shoulders and kissed him back just as hard.

Panting, they disengaged after a hot minute, and, holding Martinez' gaze for a moment, Dean nodded at him and went on his way, feeling slightly dizzy.

* * *

Sam had just paid for his own dinner with cash so he would not walk into a similar problem he had watched his brother Dean be confronted with, when the older Winchester walked into the diner again, headed for the case up front that held the pie.

He got a piece, paid cash, and turned around to leave when he spotted his brother sitting in a corner in the back. Heading in Sam's direction, he mumbled under his breath "There went my last poker money," with a frown distorting his handsome features.

When he reached the table Sam was seated at, he wondered if he had really heard a disbelieving snicker when he said it, and he looked back over his shoulder – only to have his gaze returned by a pair of stormy blue eyes once more, peering through the straggly bangs that hung in the guy's face.

Dean sent a well measured 'don't–you–dare–mess–with–me' glare over; it fell short, as the guy he had noticed earlier just smirked at him, not taking the bait. With an almost invisible nod of his scruffy chin, he turned his head back around to cut into his companion's elaborate speech.

"Let's go, Merle." And with that, he hopped off the barstool to walk out of the diner, nodding goodbye at Martinez who had just re-appeared through the 'staff only' door.

Dean thought high time to get out of here, saying as much to Sam, who quipped "I dunno, Dean." Here he paused for effect before he continued. "I rather enjoyed the show."

He smiled as he got up slowly, taking his sweet time to gather his stuff. When he finally went to leave, a still gaping Dean trailed after him, the remnants of a deep blush still visible on his high cheekbones.

**Author's Note:**

> Please remember, comments make the writer's world go round, so consider leaving one on your way out. Thank you!


End file.
